I
The office of swineherd was a position of great trust and importance among the patriarchal chieftains of Homeric Greece. The principal diet was the flesh of swine and oxen, and these animals formed the chief part of their wealth. Eumæus, the chief swineherd of Odysseus, lived apart in a lonely place among the hills, where he had enclosed a wide space of ground with a stone fence defended at the top with brambles, and in front by a palisade of oak. Within the fence were twelve styes, and in each stye were fifty sows with their young. The boars had their quarters outside the enclosure, and their number had been greatly diminished by the constant demand for hog's flesh among the suitors. Still, they reached the formidable total of three hundred and fifty—a noisy and ravenous multitude.
It was no light task to provide shelter for nearly a thousand swine, with their young; yet Eumæus had undertaken this duty during his master's long absence, without the knowledge of Laertes or Penelope. And here he was sitting, on this sunny morning, cutting up a well-tanned ox-hide to make straps for sandals, while four dogs, large and fierce as wolves, prowled near at hand. Three of his helpers were gone with the swine to their feeding ground, and the fourth had been sent to the town with a fat hog for the wooers.
Suddenly the dogs rushed forward, baying furiously, and an old man in tattered raiment appeared at the gate of the courtyard. It would have gone hard with the stranger if Eumæus had not promptly come to the rescue, and driven the dogs off with a volley of stones. "Old man," said Eumæus, as the dogs slunk away yelping, "it was well that I was near, or thou hadst surely been torn to pieces, and brought shame on me. I have trouble enough without that. Here I sit, fattening my master's swine for other men's tables, while he wanders, perchance, among strangers, in poverty and want. But come into my hut, and when thou hast comforted thy soul with meat and wine thou shalt tell thy tale of sorrow."
Odysseus (for he it was, though sorely disfigured) followed Eumæus into the hut, and sat down on a shaggy goatskin, which the swineherd spread for him on a heap of brushwood. "Heaven bless thee," he said, when he was seated, "for this kindly welcome!" "I do but my duty," answered Eumæus. "The stranger and the beggar are sacred, by law divine. 'Tis but little that I can do, who serve young and haughty masters, in the absence of my true lord, who would have rewarded me nobly, and given me a plot of ground and a wife, had he been here to see how Heaven blesses the work of my hands. But he is gone to swell the host of those who fell in Helen's cause. Cursed be she, and all her race, for she hath robbed me of the kindest master that ever man served."
In the midst of his sorrow, Eumæus forgot not his duties as host. Going out he took two young swine, slaughtered and dressed them, and set the flesh, all smoking on the spits, before Odysseus. Then he mixed wine in a bowl of ivy wood, and sitting down opposite to his guest bade him eat and drink.
"'Tis but poor fare which I have to offer you," he said. "The best of the herd ever goes to the young lords who are wooing my mistress. Their wantonness and riot calls aloud to Heaven for vengeance. They are worse than the wildest band of robbers that ever lived by open pillage and violence. Such waste of good meat and wine was never seen before. For a wealthy man was Odysseus, and his flocks and herds still range over all the hills of Ithaca. And from every flock the fattest and the choicest is driven off day by day to feed their dainty mouths."
Odysseus fell to with keen appetite, for he had eaten nothing since he left Phæacia. And when he had satisfied his hunger he pledged Eumæus in a full cup, and led him on to discourse on his favourite theme—the virtues and the sorrows of his lord. "Tell me more," he said, "of thy master. Who knows but that I may have met him in my travels, for I have wandered in many lands."
"Old man," answered Eumæus, "I see thy bent. Thou wouldst forge some glozing tale to beguile the ears of that poor stricken lady, Penelope. Many a beggar has come to her doors crammed full of lies to amuse her widowed heart; and she listens, and doubts, and weeps. And thou too, methinks, hast a like fertile fancy; for hunger and want are rare inventors. But save thy wits for a better purpose; thou canst not bring him back to life, or clothe with warm flesh his bones, long since picked clean by carrion birds or ravenous fish. He is lost for ever, and sorrow is the portion of us who remain, but especially of me, for he was dearer to me than father and mother, dearer than my native land."
"Friend," said Odysseus, "thou hast misjudged me sorely, in thinking me one of those greedy mendicants who tell lies for the sake of meat and drink. Believe me or not, I will say what is in my heart, and when my words are proved true by the event I will claim my reward. Odysseus is near at hand, and ere many days have passed he shall be seen in Ithaca, and take vengeance on those who oppress his wife and son. I swear it by this table at which I have eaten, and by the hearth of Odysseus, and by Zeus, the god of hospitality."
Eumæus remained totally unconvinced by this solemn assertion. "Talk no more of him," he said with emotion, "it cuts me to the heart to hear his very name. Would that it might be as thou sayest!—but 'tis an idle dream. Peace be unto his ashes! And may the gods at least preserve unto us his son, Telemachus, who lately departed on a witless errand, led thereto, as I think, by some malign deity who hates the house of Odysseus. But no more of this! Tell me rather of thyself, who and whence thou art, and how thou camest to Ithaca."
Eumæus had not extolled the fertile invention of Odysseus for nothing. Forthwith he began a wondrous tale of adventure, a little epic in itself, with some points of resemblance to his own true story. "I am a native of Crete," he began, "and the son of a wealthy man. When my father died I received but a scanty portion of his goods. Nevertheless, because of my valour and the might of my hands, I won a noble and wealthy lady for my wife. Thou wouldst not deem, perhaps, to see me now, that I was once a mighty man of war; yet even in the stubble we may judge what the wheat has been. From my youth up I lived amidst the clash of shield and spear, and loved battle and ambush, siege and foray. But I cared not for plodding industry, which gives increase unto a house, and fills it with the bright faces of children. Such I was as Heaven made me, a man of war and blood.
"Before the sons of Greece went up to Troy I was nine times chosen captain of an armed band to make war in the land of strangers, and came back laden with booty, so that my name was known and dreaded in Crete. And when the summons went round in all the coasts of Greece to follow the banner of Agamemnon, who but I was chosen by the common voice to share the command with Idomeneus? I was fain to renounce that hard and perilous service, but it might not be; so for nine years I fought at Troy, and after our return to Crete I abode but one month with my wife and children, for at the end of that time my spirit called me to Egypt. I manned nine ships, and on the fifth day the north wind brought me safe with all my company to the land of Nile.
"Then I sent out a few chosen men to explore the country, and kept myself close with the rest of my force until they should bring back their report. But my scouts forgot their duty, and carried away by lust of plunder began to harry and ravage the fields of the Egyptians. Quickly the hue and cry went round, and an armed multitude, both horse and foot, came suddenly upon us, breathing fury and vengeance. We could make no stand against such a host, and all my comrades were speedily slain or taken captive. When I saw that all was lost I threw away helmet and shield, dropped my spear, and falling on my knees before the chief captain of the Egyptians begged him to spare my life. He heard my petition, set me on his chariot, and brought me to his home. There I remained seven years and gathered much wealth; for I had found favour in the eyes of the Egyptians, and they gave me freely of their possessions.
"In the eighth year there came a certain Phœnician to Egypt, a crafty and covetous rogue, and he persuaded me to go with him to Phœnicia. So I went, and abode with him a whole year, and when the spring came round again I sailed with him to Africa, whither he was bound with a freight of merchandise. His purpose was to sell me in Africa as a slave for a great price; but Zeus willed it otherwise, for as we sailed southwards from Crete a great storm arose, and the ship went down with all her men, while I escaped by clinging to the mast, and after nine days was carried by the winds and the waves to Thesprotia, where I was kindly entreated by the king of that country.
"There I had news of Odysseus, who had touched at that coast on his voyage to Ithaca, and stayed as a guest in that same house. This I heard from the king's own lips, and he showed me all the treasure which Odysseus had left in his charge, while he himself went on a journey to Dodona, to inquire of the oracle concerning the manner of his return. Thou wouldst wonder to behold all the wealth which thy lord had gathered, an exceeding great store.
"Odysseus himself I saw not; for it chanced that a ship was sailing for Dulichium, and the king commended me to her captain, bidding him carry me thither with all care and tenderness. Now this man was a villain, and be devised evil against me; for when we left the coast of Thesprotia, he stripped me of the raiment which the king had given me, clothed me in these rags, and bound me with cords, intending to sell me as a slave. In the evening he landed in Ithaca, leaving me, bound as I was, in the ship. But I broke my bonds, and escaped by swimming to another part of the coast, where I lay all night in a thicket. In the morning they sought me with great outcry, but found me not; and after awhile they sailed away. When they were gone I arose, and was led by Heaven's hand to thy doors."
The swineherd listened attentively to the well-imagined tale, and when it was ended he said: "Hapless man, thou hast been the very sport of Destiny, and my heart is big when I think of thy wanderings and thy woes. But as touching Odysseus, that part of thy story likes me not; methinks 'tis a cunning invention to flatter my ears. Long ago I was deceived by a false report, brought hither by a wandering exile like thee, who said that he had seen Odysseus repairing his ships in Crete, and bade us look for his coming in the autumn of that year. Since then I have closed my ears against all such rumours, and therefore I say, tell me no more of him, for I cannot and will not believe but that he is dead."